They emerge from

hiding during

the summer months,

eyes shining with light

the way ripe fruit

teems with juice

in the heat

they frolic and cavort

with a courage that borders

upon madness

but look oh look

how high they leap

Then they sense

the waning evenings

the longer nights

decay tattooing it’s sigil

on everything

but by then

they tire

and make beds again

beneath rich loam and piles

of leaves

waiting for the season to turn

when they will find play

once

again.